Trinkets and Playthings
by I-am-the-survivor
Summary: "This year in honor of the end of the rebellion we will run one final Hunger Games. The tributes will be any of those who had contributed to the games in the past." Effie centric! (Eventual Hayffie)
1. Chapter 1

_**Chapter 1**_

**This is sort of a revamped version of No Escape. To be honest the only thing that stayed the same was the plot line XD**

"This year in honor of the end of the rebellion we will run one final Hunger Games. The tributes will be any of those who had contributed to the games in the past."

The rigid voice echoed through my mind as I sipped at my wine. My knees curled to my chest a blanket wrapped around my shoulders. My eyes vacant and staring at the now dark television. How long had it been? An hour? A day?

The door slides open behind me. "Oh Euphemia!" The voice of my sister echoes through the silent household but I don't make a move to greet her. I'm going into the games. I'm going to die.

A heavy arm wrapped around my shoulders pulling me to the owner. "It's gonna be okay. Maybe you won't get reaped. You helped Katniss." Hope surges through my heart. It's true. I assisted in the rebellion. I was the escort to the Mockingjay. Surely that most account for something. A small smile twitched on my lips looking up at my older brother. The familiar golden stars tattoed across his face brought a smile to my lips. "See? That's better! Smile Effs. We'll be fine." Painted nails grip my shoulders. I look up at my younger sister my smile spreading.

"The reaping is in a week. We'll be there for you." She gives a slight squeeze to my shoulders. I close my eyes relishing in the moment. Somewhere deep inside a voice whispered the chance of it being my last.

Days flew by as preparation for the reaping began. Banners strug up all over town, the surviving victors haunted smiles plastered across buildings. Flickers of crowns being placed on heads shining on every broadcasting screen. They even sent out for the victors. They were to draw the names of the tributes for the reaping. A male and female victor from every district. I'm not entirely sure if I'm excited or terrified to see my victors. It has been so long since I last saw them. Peeta always insisted that I come visit but I could never get up enough courage myself.

A knock echoes before I even have the chance to sort out my feelings. My hands tremble as I pull open the door. A girl with dark brown hair and Seam grey eyes stares back at me confusion evident in her gaze.

"I'm sorry. Did I get the wrong address?" Katniss continues to mumble to herself pulling a crumpled piece of paper out of her pocket checking the numbers emblazed over the door of my apartment.

"Manners Katniss. You know all to well it is not appropriate to mumble." The words slip out of my mouth before I can stop them.

"Effie?" Her expression forces a smile to my lips. I know I look different but the poor girl hadn't even recognized me.

"That's me." I laugh it off and invite her inside. She proceeds to explain that Peeta had gone to visit Plutarch while Haymitch had likely snuck off to some bar. Not that it surprised me. Nothing could keep that man away from his alcohol.

We chatted for seemingly hours before the clock struck noon. It was nearly time for the reaping already.

"We better get going. Don't want to be late." She lets out a tense laugh. I can feel it in the air. She isn't okay with this either. I'm not convinced any of us are. Silently I push myself to my feet giving her one last hug before leading her out of the apartment.

The walk to the ruins of the deceased President Snow's home is uncomfortably quiet. Our footsteps echo off the ground and bounce off brick walls booming around us.

I fake a smile as we part ways squeezing her hand with a whisper of comfort. "I'll be alright." Whether it was for her or myself I am unsure butbeither way it seemed pretty ineffective.

I slip into the crowd not failing to notice the accusing glares sent my way. It wasn't much of a shock. Of course I would be safe. I assisted in the rebellion. Well, kind of. If prepping the Mockingjay's speeches and directing her can be considered assisting. The rest had no idea. I stop in the middle of the crowd watching the tense victors on stage. Except for Johanna of course. The one person who actually seemed thrilled that this was happening.

"Must be nice." A voice breaks the deafening silence. In turn my head to find Maximus Heathrow standing next to me. He was supposed to take Seneca's spot as head gamemaker but Plutarch spoke up before the man had gotten the chance.

"I have no idea what you mean." My eyes train on the stage once again watching as one by one two victors from each district began drawing names.

"Being able to sit on a high pedestal. Knowing you are safe. All 'cause you betrayed your district." I clench my jaw this man was definitely getting on my last nerve.

"If I learned one thing in my years as an escort I'd say nobody is safe." The unladylike words spill from my lips as I watch Snow's granddaughter walk up the stairs taking place to the growing line of tributes.

"Wise words coming from a traitor." Katniss's gaze trained on me is the only thing stopping me right now from reaching over and slapping the man. How one person could be so irritating I had no idea.

"Maximus Heathrow." Johanna's teasing voice breaks the tense air around us. My head snaps around in time to see the man smirk and straighten his bright green blazer.

"That's my cue." He steps off without another word. My mouth left hanging open. Those were likely the last words we would have ever spoken to each other and it had been spent in such an uncouth manner.

Slowly the tributes began to flood the stage until the only wictors left were Katniss and Haymitch. Peeta had chosen not to be the one to announce the name in fear of having an episode. The poor boy had become so broken. Maybe we did deserve this.

"Brennen Towns." Katniss's voice cuts through the crowd with a relieved breath. She hadn't drawn my name. I watch as Haymitch stumbles to the reaping bowl my breath catching in my throat as he almost tips over. Lord prevent the man get a concussion.

He reaches into the bowl pulling out a single slip of paper. His slurred words ricochet through the courtyard as he unfolds the neatly formed square.

"Euphemia Trinket." My heart jumps to my throat frozen in my place. Slowly the crowd begins pushing me forward my feet stumbling to catch up as they push me on stage. Tears slip down my cheeks as I meet Katniss's eyes. Peeta and Johanna hold her arms back knowing the inevitability of a breakdown. My eyes set above the crowd staring into the nothingness.

Hot breath feathers my ear as a familiar voice whispers, "Well well Miss Trinket. I suppose the odds are not in your favor."


	2. Chapter 2

**Forgot to do this last time. I do not own any Hunger Games characters (Unfortunately)... All characters belong to Suzanne Collins except my OCs. That said enjoy the story please leave a review maybe a favorite. It would be greatly appreciated. Enjoy a bit of a tease of Hayffie goodness -w-**

I pace the blank room my breath caught in my lungs. My name had been drawn. I am a tribute. I can't fight. I'm going to-

"Efs!" My head snaps around to see a flash of white hair and gold before four arms wrap around me.

"I was wrong. I'm so sorry." August's voice trembles as Lillian steps back. I bury my face into his broad shoulders allowing myself to calm down. I pull away stepping over to Lillian. I tuck a strand of bleached white hair behind her ears. I always told her it was stupid to dye her natural hair that sort of color, especially since she's naturally a brunette. But I'm glad she listened to me because perhaps my last thoughts will be of golden stars and snow colored hair. I press my rose painted lips to her pale forehead in an attempt to smooth her frantic sobs.

"It's okay." I whisper. My heart tugs at how easily the lie spilled from my lips. After all it's practically all I had been telling myself for the past week. But I wasn't going to let her know I didn't mean it. Our parents already died during the rebellion, I don't need her worrying about the same fate for me. "Go wait outside okay?" I whisper softly. She just nods her curls bouncing on her shoulders before walking out.

"You're not going to make it back are you?" August breaks the silence. My eyes shift to the ground a guilty blush reddening my cheeks.

"You have to take care of her. You saw how bad she got after mom and dad died. You can't let her fall like that again." I say my eyes welling with tears threatening to spill.

"What about me Effs? Do you just expect me to sit back and watch you die? I'll be a sponser! I'll send gifts! I'll-"

"August please don't." I plead gripping his aqua dress shirt.

"Effs I'm going to do whatever I can to help you win." He presses his lips to the top of my head and leaves before I can say another thing about it. I turn my back to the door as more tears cascade down my cheeks, sobs shaking my figure.

"Hey Princess." I spin around finding Haymitch leaning against the door frame. "Ya look better without all that crap on your face."

"I thought you were trying to stay sober." I glare at him through the tears. This man drew my name. He doomed me to this fate.

"I am. But unless you wanted me throwing the bowl at Coin I'd say the liquor was quite necessary." The snide remark causes my lips to twitch into a slight smile. Coin hadn't been kind to Capitol citizens. Nobody had. Over time crime doubled and rebels moved in making it especially tense. Me, however, I fit into no category. I betrayed my home but I reaped children. I'd be lying if I said I hadn't wished for a new president in some way. Coin was nearly as bad as Snow himself.

"What are you doing here?" My voice crack straining to speak.

"Came to talk. Kat was too frantic. Think she was having flashbacks. Peeta had to carry her away." I frown crossing my arms under my chest.

"I guess you finally got me back for drawing your name." I smile softly as the words slip past my lips. Maybe now I wouldn't have the guilt of all those killed lying upon my shoulders.

"Princess," He pauses almost as if trying to find the right words, "I never wanted this to happen." At this my resolve breaks. My throat feels like it is closing up, my lungs constricting as if my old childhood cat was sitting on my chest while I slept again.

"What am I going to do Haymitch?" I whimper tears welling in my eyes threatening to spill onto my brand new Alexandra King dress. The satin seemed to be tighter than the old corsets I donned during my times as an escort. The beautiful red strangling me until my face turning pale and my eyes dulled.

"The only thing you can do Sweetheart: survive." An unladylike scoff escapes my throat.

"With what abilities? You said yourself all those years ago. I won't last a day in those games. My best ability is running in heels." I deepened my voice mocking his Seam accent. It wasn't very good but it seemed to lighten the air a bit.

"We'll help you train. Kat will teach you survival techniques: how to build a fire, good and bad berries. Stuff like that. Peeta will teach you to blend in. I'll teach you how to use a knife." He grabs me by the shoulders looking me in the eyes. "We're a team. We'll get you through this."

"You know I never imagined you being sincere about anything before." I say furrowing my eyebrows. "Is there something you're not telling me?"

"'Course not." He answers shortly. "We have to go. We're expected at the training room in an hour." He lets his arms fall back to his sides almost awkwardly.

"Already?" The panic begins to set in again against my will. "We just got reaped."

"Coin's not one for wasting things Princess. 'Specially not time." His hand places on the small of my back guiding me out of the room. I meet Katniss's sad eyes as we step out throwing her a nod. She holds her emotions in now. She was always so good at that. I hug each of the children offering a comforting words whispered in their ears.

"Let's go. it's going to be a big big big day." I fake a smile walking in the direction of the exit.

The rest of the day is a blur of training and information. I suppose Coin had no memory of the games due to being locked underground for all those years. Normally tributes would meet their stylists first but so far there was no sign of them. As I lay in bed my body throbbing from the unfamiliar endurance it had faced I thought about what else she might change. Would our deaths be cruel and merciless? No hiding places or poisonous berries. Simply a clearing with only knives to slay our opponents. I eventually drifted to sleep with visions of crimson blood staining my mind.


	3. Chapter 3

**_Chapter 3_**

***Pokes head out from behind the curtain* Hi! Literally poking my head out of a curtain here. Sorry this took so long but I just got out of tech week. (For those unfamiliar with the term it is the opening week of a play) I promise updates will now be more frequent. By the way I don't own Hunger games or it's beautiful characters. *Cough* If I did Hayffie would be canon *cough***

_CLANG! _The knife hitting the ground resonated through the room with embarrassing volume. Blush spread across my cheeks realizing just how much I had missing the target. I swipe my hand across my forehead letting out a frustrated groan.

"Try again." Haymitch sighs picking up the knife and tossing it to me. I squeal moving out of the way of the flying knife.

"I've been trying for the past two hours Haymitch." I whine throwing my arms up.

"Fine. Go find Kat or Peeta. I'm going to get a drink." He walks off leaving me speechless. He walked out on me. How could he?

"Trouble in paradise?" I spin around finding Maximus leaning on the manikin. A sly smirk is plastered on his face. "Is the team being a little dysfunctional?"

"What do you want?" My eyebrow raises unamused. I sweep down picking up the knife with a huff.

"An alliance. It's in our best interest." He says, the smirk disappearing from his face. He seemed almost serious, dare I say, genuine.

"What would you know about my best interest?" I ask crossing my arms. The side of the blade pressing against my ribcage ready to swing if necessary.

"You're the traitor of the Capitol. You sided with the rebels. Isn't that reason enough for you to snatch up the first and possibly only opportunity for an alliance?" He steps closer as I instinctively step back.

"How do I know this isn't a trick?" I clench the knife in my hand tighter. I know how alliances work. You survive and then you're forced to kill each other. Not my favorite scenario but it would help me survive longer than on my own with a large target on my back.

"I guess you'll just have to trust me." My hand relaxes my arms unfolding from their tight hold. "There's also Cynthia." He nods his head to the frightened girl standing in the corner. She was Snow's granddaughter. Yet another large target in these games.

"Fine. You have yourself an alliance member." I smile holding out my free hand. He takes it in a firm grip and shakes it.

"Now how about I teach you how to throw these things the right way?" He takes the knife from my hands his fingers brushing mine. Redness spreads across my cheeks, my eyes drifting to the ground. He steps behind me one hand on my waist the other clutching my wrist.

"Don't snap your wrist when you throw. Try to keep it straight." He places the knife in my hand. "Grip it at the blade since it's handle heavy." My fingers close around the cold metal. Chills run down my spine. I'm not sure if it's from the concept of holding the blade of a knife or Maximus's breath feathering the nape of my neck. His arm follows mine pulling back and releasing. I watch as the knife pierces the edge of the target with a cry of success."Not bad. But we have more work to do."

The rest of the day is spent scaling rope walls, building fires, and practicing hand to hand combat. Speed being my strong suit I managed to pin Maximus to the ground several times before he called it a day. To be fair my muscles were aching a bit myself. We said our goodbyes before going our separate ways.

I stepped into the penthouse closing the door behind me. A laugh escapes my throat, my head falling back against the hard wood.

"Long night?" A voice makes me jump snapping my head up. I regain my posture brushing off my clothes. Haymitch sits across from me a tequila glass carefully balanced in his left hand.

"Yes actually. Since you were no help to me Maximus was helping me train." He sits straighter than I have ever seen nearly choking on his drink.

"He did what?" His expression pulls a smile to my face. I didn't need him to be able to survive this. I might not be able to survive but perhaps I could make a decent length. "Trinket!" Haymitch is standing a few feet from me. "Did you hear me?"

"Yes, in fact, I formed an alliance." At this his jaw dropped. "That's right Haymitch Abernathy! I formed an alliance without you." He smirks stepping closer.

"Way to go Sweetheart." At the my heart swells with pride my smile widening. "You trust him?"

"Not exactly. But I have limited options." I shrug with a slight frown. It was true. Whenever I would walk into the room it would go dead silent save the few whispers. It was like being in high school all over again. Never sure if someone around the corner would jump you.

"Are you sure he isn't being a flirt?" His words shock me. I had never thought of it, really. "Are you telling me the famous Effie Trinket didn't do her research on her fellow tributes?" His eyebrow raises as a mocking laugh escapes his lips. "Maximus Heathrow, sponsor famous for sleeping with escorts and victors in exchange for money for their tributes."

"In case you haven't noticed Haymitch I really haven't really had the time." I frown crossing my arms. I take a step back my back hitting the solid wood behind me as he tried to step closer again.

"Trinks don't do anything risky." We are so close that our chests are touching.

"Gee Haymitch if I didn't know you better I'd think you were beginning to care." I laugh meeting his eyes only for him to look away staring at the ground.

"Eff I'm serious. Don't get yourself hurt." My eyebrows furrow as the smile fades from my lips.

"Haymitch…" My hand drifts up grabbing his chin forcing him to look into my eyes.

"Effie!" Peeta's voice calls from the back rooms. Haymitch steps away before Peeta can burst into his room. "Have you heard about the parade?"

"No. I've been at training all day." I step towards the baker my muscles aching. "What about it?"

"The outfits arrived. You have to see them." He says hurriedly before rushing off.

"Outfits? But I haven't even had a stylist." I look at Haymitch who is looking down frowning. Once again a feeling of suspicion arises. It's like he knows something that I don't.

My feet carry myself to the bedroom where Peeta and Katniss stand in front of the mahogany bed frame. Sprawled neatly across the aqua bedspread is a red, ruffled dress and perfectly perched on a mannequin head is a golden wig.


	4. Chapter 4

**Hello! Yay! After having writer's block I finally figured something out! The beginning was inspired by the song Chandelier by Sia. Just cause. I hope you'll enjoy! I do not own Hunger Games or any of their characters.**

Breathe. One, two, three. One, two, three. Drink. I tip back the bottle allowing the liquid to pour down my throat. The alcohol warms the blood that had gone cold. This was not fair. She couldn't make me become her. I wasn't going to become her again!

Breathe. One, two, three. One, two, three. Drink. My heels ache from the constant pacing. Where am I? I look around my surroundings. White walls and ceiling, smooth carpet beneath my feet. It was an old guest room I used to hide liquor in from Haymitch. Not that it worked. He always found it some way or another. But not this one. I clutch the bottle tighter in my hand as if some imaginary force threatened to take it away.

Alcohol. The only thing constant in my life. It's almost comical. The same thing that had made my life hell for almost twenty years but here I am seeking comfort in my worst enemy.

"There you are." I spin around finding Haymitch leaning against the pale white door frame. His eyes drift to the bottle with a questioning look. "Is that really a good idea Princess?"

"I have to forget." The words slip from my lips before I can make any sense of them. Forget what? Who I am? Who I was? What I am stuck in?

"Forgetting won't get rid of the problem Sweetheart." He saunters up to me plucking the bottle from between my fingers dangling it just away from my reach.

"What do I do Haymitch? I'm not her anymore." My eyes drift to the floor studying the smooth carpet. My mind was so capacitated I didn't even notice him taking a step towards me. A calloused finger tips my chin up forcing me to look into eyes the color of shining silver.

"What you're going to do is you're going to go out there and charm the pants off of some sponsors. You're going to smile and you're going to keep your chin held high." The deepness of his voice makes a new red blush spread across my cheeks.

"You're so vulgar." I mutter trying to lighten the mood.

"And you're you. Nobody can make you something you're not." With that he walks out. I am left standing still astounded. Whether it was from how wise this old drunk could be or how close we were standing I'll never know.

I adjust my wig for what feels like the hundredth time. The matted mess of curls just feels like an extra weight on my neck. The red ruffled fans were a bright contrast from my newest outfits. The once beautiful couture simply didn't feel the same anymore. BIle raised in my throat as I looked in the mirror. My face painted a sickly pale. My cheeks tainted with a bright red blush. Eyelashes hanging precariously from my eyes brushing the swell of my cheek.

"Time to go." I turn seeing Peeta standing right outside the bathroom. His hair neatly combed and held back with gel. The younger boy was donned in a nice tuxedo like one someone would wear to a wedding. Not to a parade to death. I nod solemnly stepping out of the room.

The silence on the way to the town center was deafening. My eyes always trained ahead although I could feel my team sneaking glances at me from time to time. They haven't looked at me the same since I was reaped. All of their eyes held a deep of which I wasn't destined to know.

I look around the courtyard filled with old frilled dresses, wigs, and dyed hair. Most seemed ecstatic about the return of their own clothes but I just felt like an outcast. Like a sheep among the wolves.

"Looks like your my partner." The voice from behind me makes me jump. Maximus stands behind me decked out in a bright red tux. The tips of his hair are sprayed to resemble flames.

"And how do you figure?" I raise an eyebrow crossing my arms.

"Color coordination. For someone who hates any color besides grey Coin seems pretty good at picking out our outfits." A smirk tugs at his lips but I continue to stare blankly.

"I once told her that her hair needed a revolution." The look on his face brings a smirk to my lips. His laugh provoked a giggle of my own to escape my throat.

"See that's better. You got a pretty smile. You should show it more often." I look at him studying his face. Stubble dusted across his jawline. Grass green eyes sparkling with amusement. Lips upturned in a smile. I had almost responded when an announcement blared out of the speakers.

"Tributes please report to your carriages." I offer an apologetic smile quickly dismissing myself to the carriage. Minutes later Maximus steps up next to me his friendly smile gone. What is replaced is spine chilling. Gone are the kind eyes. Daggers stare straight ahead as our carriage suddenly pulls forwards.

The pounding of the drums drowns out the screams of victory from the rebels. Gone are the beautiful rose petals Capitol citizens would throw at the tributes. Past rebels throw trash in front of the poor horses trying perhaps to trip them up. Perhaps missing the tributes by a longshot in their drunken stupor.

I feel a pair of eyes glaring at me. My eyes meet a pair of cold green. No other than Alma Coin is staring down at me. She didn't like me. Never has. I wouldn't be surprised if she rigged the reaping. From the moment I stepped into the meeting with her hideous outfits fixed, or at least as much as my expertise could help, she instantly hated me. I was the epitome of the Capitol. A naive airhead who only cared about make up clothes and wigs.

She couldn't be more wrong.

Fingers brush mine nearly making me jump out of my skin. I lace my fingers in Maximus's seeking the touch of another human being. The one thing I could use to keep my stuck to the ground lest I float off in the pounding of the drums, drowning lights and steely green eyes.

"Citizens of Panem! Your tributes for the 76th and final Hunger Games!" The drums stop the screams and cries of rebels replace them. The taunting voice resonates over the screams. "Happy Hunger Games and may the odds be ever in your favor."


	5. Chapter 5

**Don't kill me. I don't own any of these wonderful characters otherwise Effie would have her own sitcom and I'd have coffee with Liz Banks every Wednesday...**

The tapping is going to drive me insane in the silence of the room. _Tap. Tap. Tap._ The rubber heel of a shoe hitting the hard concrete beneath our feet. This was it. The scoring, I have never felt more unprepared in my life. All I had practiced was hand to hand combat. In there I would be alone. Nobody to fight but plastic dummies and holograms.

Biting my nails has become a habit ever since I was reaped. Perfect manicures mutilated to stubs.

"Cynthia Snow." My eyes drift to the thirteen year old watching her stand with her head head high, back straight, shoulders back. Walking to her death with dignity.

I can't do this.

"You okay?" I sigh looking at Maximus who had taken a seat next to me.

"You want honesty or a lie?" I look at him my eyebrows furrowed in worry. He placed a hand on my back understanding. My muscles tense in shock at the sudden contact. I slowly relax as time goes on. In this type of environment human touch is the only way you can stay grounded really.

"Maximus Cardwell." He looks down at me with a sad smile before standing. Like Cynthia he walks out of the room with pride.

An hour passes. People slowly filter out of the room until I am the only one left. Silence louder than any drum threatens to suffocate me. What a sick twist that would be. Driven insane by silence. Killed by the invisible.

"Effie Trinket." My heart skips a beat, my voice caught in my throat. I stand walking to the room. Footsteps echoing quietly on the pavement.

The voices of the rowdy rebels go silent as soon as I step into the room. A chill runs down my spine straightening my back. My fingers tremble picking up three knives by the blade. Terrified eyes reflect back at me. Messy hair dirty clothes. It's almost laughable how much my life has changed. But laughter doesn't echo from my throat. Tears gather in my eyes threatening to fall upon the deadly piece of metal.

"Miss Trinket?" My head snaps up meeting the woman's who spoke up. Half of her hair shaved from her head. Cressida. "We're waiting."

I walk to the body shaped target. Numbers and circles dance before my eyes as my head spin from adrenalin. My arm snaps from behind my a knife sailing straight for the target.

_CLANG! _I missed. The threatening metal lays by the feet of the dummy. Laughter resonates through the room sending a deep blush spreading across my cheeks. It hadn't even reached the cutout.

I take a breath holding the knife by the blade. _Don't snap your wrist. _A deep voice echoes through my mind. Almost automatically my arm sends the weapon flying.

_CLANG! _The knife bounces off the wall as tears gather in my eyes. I'm going to die. I'm going to die. My chest constricts lungs trying to expand as my breathing speeds up. I look down at my final knife the handle clenched tightly between my fingers.

"You're dismissed." My heart drops to my stomach. No. This can't be it. I'm not finished. "You're dismissed Miss Trinket." The final knife slips from my fingers.

_CLANG! _The metal bounces pathetically off the floor by my feet. I barely have enough time to nod before my feet are carrying me out of the room.

Hot tears slip down my cheeks as I push past people in my way. I was a laughing stock. My face burns as I storm up the stairs quickly. Sobs spill from my lips as I race past the doorway to the penthouse. The kids will be worried but at the point I don't care. I feel like I'm suffocating. I'm going to die.

I burst from the door and onto the roof. I gasp greedily taking in as much air as possible. I race towards the edge but just as I'm about to jump I stop. Buildings scarred with burns seem to bleed together. Fallen towers still littering the streets. A city just as broken as I.

My knees crumple my joints aching as they hit the hard concrete. What was I thinking? Suicide would be selfish. Cowardly. I couldn't do that to the children. This was sick. All of it. This happiness that the rebels have created is just masking the destruction. It's as fake as it was before.

Minutes blended into hours as I stared blankly at the city below me. I don't flinch as the door behind me swings open.

"There you are Sweetheart." Footsteps echo from behind me as Haymitch approaches.

"Were the children worried about me?" No emotion bleeds through my words. My entire body feels numb even the chill of the air seems nonexistent.

"To death. You missed the scores Sweetheart." He sits beside me grey eyes peering at me. "So what happened?"

"I missed. I tried knife throwing and I failed." My cheeks begin to burn tears welling in my eyes once again.

"Let's get you inside." He grabs my wrist getting ready to stand but I snatch it away.

"No!" His startled expression snaps me out of it. "I mean… I can't let the children see me like this." My eyes fall to the city once again. "If they see that I have lost hope… It will tear them apart. I can't do that to them."

"Then don't." I look at him confused as he puts his arm around my shoulders. "Don't lose hope. We're a team Princess. We'll get out of this thing together." The words were a tad shaky but I couldn't blame him. The man probably hadn't comforted anyone but Katniss since before the rebellion. But somehow the gesture meant more to me than any meaningless comforting words. I lay my head on his shoulder staring out into the city once again.

"Haymitch… I'm terrified." The confession slips past my lips after minutes of silence. I look up at him realizing he had been staring down at me all along.

"Me too Princess. Me too." Chapped lips press a kiss on top of my blonde curls. We sat there in complete silence until the sun sets. My eyelids are too heavy, my limbs too sore. I'm dozing off.

I am just closing my eyes when suddenly I am weightless. Rocking through the air with ease. A hard pillow like surface beneath my head. My eyes drift open to see dirty blonde hair and dark stubble. Haymitch was carrying me. I open my mouth to throw a snarky comment but I don't want to ruin this moment. Haymitch is hardly this gentle, especially with me. I watch him the entire walk back gazing at the features hardened by war and death. The wrinkles by his mouth giving the impression of a constant frown. My eyes drift closed once again falling asleep in his arms.

A soft thud awakens me. Haymitch had not so carefully dropped me onto my bed. His guilty eyes meet mine. His mouth opens to apologize but I stop him before they can even form the first syllable.

"Stay." His eyes widen and he stumbles backwards. I grab his wrist my eyes pleading. "Please."

"Okay." He crawls into bed wrapping his arms around me. For the first time I find myself falling into a peaceful sleep contentedly resting my head on his chest.


	6. Chapter 6

**I'm not gonna lie. I didn't like this chapter and this chapter didn't like me. I hella struggled. I was so bitch slapped with writer's block and to me this seems really rushed but on the bright side it is better than certain stories...**

My eyes drift open looking up at Haymitch. He was sound asleep. His rough expression softened in the morning daylight. His arms coiled around my waist resting on the small of my back. My lips twist up in a smile. Not wanting to break the moment I rested my head back on his chest.

Tomorrow was the games. Tomorrow the real battle would begin. Haymitch shifts beneath me snapping me out of my thoughts. I look up meeting steel colored eyes. I hold my breath waiting for his reaction.

"Hey Princess." The corner of his lips twists upwards in a smirk. I allow myself to breathe once again a smile forming on my face.

"Good morning." I say lightly. I stretch in his arms sitting up.

"Sorry to break it to you Sweetheart, but it ain't morning." I sit up wide eyed. My head snaps to the digital clock sitting on the table. Surely enough it was well past noon. I swing out of the bed with a gasp.

"We're going to be so terribly late!" I rush into the bathroom slamming the door behind me. My hands still seeing the old dress hanging on the bathtub curtain. Peeta must have put it there to avoid another breakdown like the first. After last night it was a heart warming thought. I place my hand on the cover slowly unzipping it.

My heart skipped at the sight of wings. My fingers brush lightly over over the soft orange fabric. One of Cinna's creations. My eyes well with tears, my fingertips brushing my lips in a desperate attempt to remain silent.

"The interview isn't til eight Princess." Haymitch's drowsy voice snaps me out of my moment of remorse.

"We have parties and meetings to attend to beforehand!" I begin moving getting ready. The thoughts of my long gone best friend pushed to the back of my mind for now.

The day is a blur of drinks and flirting. My cheeks ache from smiling though I was dying inside all day. I look in the mirror studying my face. Eyelids and cheekbones dusted a bright gold. A small butterfly hanging precariously above my eyebrow of one eye and another just below the other eye. The collar of monarchs forces my head to hold high lest I crush the fragile wires holding them together.

"Ready?" I turn towards Katniss standing by the door. I walk over to her with a sad smile. The poor girl couldn't even bare to meet my eyes. My gloved hands reach out for hers giving a comforting squeeze.

"Always." I release her hands walking out into the hallway finding Haymitch and Peeta waiting by the elevator. Small chatter fills the time. Talks of strategy and tips on survival take up the walk to the line of tributes. No apparent order seems present so I hug each of the children before walking to the end.

"We meet again." The urge to roll my eyes is almost inevitable as I turn to face Maximus.

"Don't you have someone else here to pester?" I ask as slight smile tug at my lips. No matter how irritating he could be at times he was a breath of fresh air compared to the others around here.

"Nope just you." His infuriating smirk invoked an eyeroll from me. "Lighten up Trinks. How about we play a game?"

"A game?" I look at his as if he had just grown two heads. Was he insane?

"Yup. It's called spot the error. I used to play it with my baby sister all the time. She used to think the Capitol fashion was ridiculous so we'd always try to find an error in their outfits." He smiles at me expectantly but something struck me odd about it. The smile didn't quite reach his eyes.

"Sure why not?"

And so time passed. Able to spot untucked curls poking out of wigs, not so hidden zippers, and five dollar dye jobs he won by a long shot. He obviously had lots of practice. The game was cut short however when my name was called.

"I guess I'll see you later." I give him a smile before walking off.

"The escort from District 12! Effie Trinket!" I step out onto the stage the light blinding me almost instantly. I manage to squint finding Caesar standing in the center holding out a hand. My lips turn upwards in a fake smile as I wave to the crowd. The applause his booming as I make my way to Caesar. He takes my fingertips in his kissing the top of my hand. As we sit the crowd finally goes silent.

"Here we are again Miss Trinket. How long has it been since we last sat here? About 3 years?" Has it really been that long? My eyebrows furrow doing the calculations only o find he is right.

"It appears so Caesar. May I say you haven't changed a bit." Almost true. Obviously he had aged but unlike many people Caesar was unaffected by the rebellion. In fact he still kept his talk show even after the rebellion. It was a refreshing break from all of the destruction of life around us.

"Always the charmer aren't you Effie?" He laughs lightly. "If my sources tell me correctly Effie you have two siblings?"

"That's correct. Lillian and August."

"And I'm assuming you're going to try to win for them correct? Like your own tribute?" My smile breaks instantly. They're comparing me to Katniss?

"Caesar unfortunately for you and all the viewers out there I will be honest. I am no Katniss. The most fighting I've done in my life was over a purse on Black Friday." This provokes a giggle from the crowd but I'm being honest.

"Oh your score would beg to differ." I look at him confused.

"What do you mean? I was scheduling at the time. I completely missed the scores." Caesar throws his head back letting out a loud laugh.

"Just like the Effie we know and love isn't that right folks?" The crowd erupts into cheers. "Well since you didn't know Miss Trinket you got a nine. One of the best scores out of all of the tributes." My heart almost stops in my chest. They were trying to make me a target. If I weren't one enough as it is.

"As lovely as this has been I do believe our time has run short. May the odds be ever in your favor Effie." We stand clasping hands. I smile walking off stage before I finally breakdown. My back hits the wall sinking as tears slide down my cheeks. I am going to die. I'm going to die. My shoulders tremble with my sobs make up bleeding onto Cinna's dress.

"Caesar I have a confession. I have a small crush on a fellow tribute." My head picks up at Maximus's words.

"Who is it?" Caesar and I ask at the same time. The words were mumbled from my lips confusion etched into my expression.

"Euphemia Trinket." My heart drops. No. No this can't be happening. I stand almost ready to storm the stage but Maximus is already leaving by the time I get there. One look is enough for me to want to set him on fire. He had thrown me another of his cocky half smiles.

"What the hell was that?" The words spill out of my mouth before I can stop them.

"I was saving us!" He proclaims crossing his hands over his chest. "You should be thanking me."

"Thanking you?" I scoff. "I don't need your help! I have never needed your help! I don't know why you have chosen to hook yourself on to me but I am not interested. I have heard of your reputation and quite frankly I have heard this story before. I don't nor have I ever planned on making it out of there alive and certainly not with you. I am not Katniss. This is not some star crossed love story so why don't you just back off." A hand touches my arm stopping me from tearing his head off. I gather myself looking to Haymitch whose hand still rested on my arm. Katniss and Peeta stood behind him looking at me as if I were a complete stranger.

I snatch my arm away and do what I do best. I run.


	7. Chapter 7

**Oh my goodness it has been so damn long since I updated and I'm really sorry! But! The good news is I have a 3 day weekend with no homework leaving me plenty of time to write even more!**

I wake with heaviness in my heart. The games are beginning soon. It's time to say my goodbyes. Perhaps for good.I dress in a pair of jeans and a loose fitting t shirt. I finish getting ready and walk out into the living room.

Katniss has her head leaning on Peeta's shoulder and Haymitch is nowhere to be seen when I walk in. The children stand as soon as they see me stand.

"Hello." I say softly.

"Hi." Peeta's voice cracks as he offers me a sad smile.

"You both have grown up so much. I suppose I shouldn't call you children anymore." I smile softly trying to memorize everything about them right now. From the soft tangle of Katniss's chestnut colored hair to Peeta's tufts of blonde hair standing up unevenly. Peeta's eyes the color of the spring sky and Katniss's a shade of ash.

"We'll see you soon. Promise?" Katniss, who was once was the epitome of strength broken down by war and loss, hoping for the escort that reaped her sister to survive. The whole situation seemed off but then again nothing seemed right about this.

"I'll try." The lie slipped past my lips so easily. Guilt struck my heart for lying to her. I couldn't let my last words to her be a lie.

"Katniss may I speak to Peeta alone for a moment?" She nods leaving the room.

"You don't expect to make it back do you?" He looks at me with a disapproving frown.

"I haven't fought a day in my life Peeta." My eyebrows furrow tears welling in my eyes.

"Neither did I. I have faith in you and so does Katniss. You have to try to win."

"I'll try. I promise." The words slip past my lips once again. But this time it's the truth. I have to at least try. I owe that much to them. I can't be a coward. Not after they had done so much for me. They had risked so much for me.

"Bring Katniss back in." I whisper. Within seconds we are back where we had started. Katniss and Peeta stand in front of me solemnly. Tears slide down my cheeks as I give them each a hug. "Peeta, don't let anything change you. You both deserve to have each other. No matter what. You are one of the sweetest boys I have ever met. Please don't let anything change that. And Katniss, remain strong, always. It may seem hard sometimes but you are so very strong. You are truly an inspiration to me. I will miss you both dearly. I hope we shall be back together soon. Farewell."

On that I begin my walk towards death. Thoughts revolve my head threatening to strangle me but one stands out the most. Haymitch didn't even say goodbye. He is allowing me to die without even saying goodbye to me.

I cried three more times before finally reaching the arena. I make my way to the door marked with my name. Lying on the table in the room is a pair of jeans, a white tank top, and a loose fitting jacket. I finish getting dressed with fifteen minutes to spare. I pace the room trying to catch my breath awaiting my final minutes of freedom to run dry.

"Still up for that drink?" I spin around finding Haymitch leaning against the wall.

"And here I thought you were going to let me die without saying goodbye." I shoot back without second thought. Guilt strikes once again as his smirk fades into a frown.

"Never. Known ya too long." He drawls. "It would be very rude." He states mimicking my accent. A smile twitches to my lips. I'm almost glad that he doesn't talk to me like I'm going to die. It's a refreshing change.

"Got any last minute advice?" I smile lightly.

"Haven't you heard it enough?" He raises an eyebrow a small laugh escaping his throat.

"Stay alive." We both smile settling into a contented silence. Before I know it the countdown has begun and I'm walking towards the clear tubes.

"Eff wait." I freeze turning around. There were very few times in life where he called me by my name. This was one of those rare ones. "You're forgetting your token."

"Token?" My eyebrows furrow confused but before I can ask what he means he steps towards me taking my face into both hands. His lips press against mine slowly dangerously close to caringly. My hands settle on his shoulders as I kiss him back. His lips were surprisingly soft against my own stealing my breath away. For once everything was blissfully silent. The only thing that existed was him and I. No games, no murder, no death. I wasn't going to die and were were not to be separated.

I wrap my arms around his neck and his own move to my waist. No longer were gruesome images of the fallen tributes haunting the recesses of my mind. Haymitch had not only stolen my breath away but my thoughts as well. I break the kiss for a quick breath of precious oxygen. Suddenly the world comes crashing back in. A single tear slips down my cheek. Never again would I feel comforted by another human being. Never again would I feel a soft caress. This newfound sensation was being snuffed out by death before it had the chance to bloom. His thumb catches the tear before it has the chance to fall. Our foreheads rest together our breath mingling together in the small space.

"Tributes please report to your plates." The harsh voice shattered the dream like state forcing us to pull away.

15. We step away and I offer him a smile.

14, 13. I step onto the plate and watch him mouth his famous phrase. Stay alive.

12. The platform begins to rise causing me to stumble a bit.

11. The sun is blinding making me advert my eyes.

10, 9. Towering structures begin to form in the corner of my eyes. Haunting metal rails looming hundreds of feet above the ground.

8. Images begin to flash before my eyes. Is this what death feels like?

7. Katniss twirling in a bloom of burning flames.

6. Peeta's haunting painting of the cornucopia, the artificial sun glimmering off the metal

5. Cinna's messy designs scattered haphazardly across the table reflecting all the colors of the rainbow and more.

4. Prim and her messy cat brushing the poor thing's matted fur.

3. Portia's whitened teeth shining as she laughed at another one of my ridiculous jokes that had probably been repeated for the 37th time.

2. Haymitch's soft lips brushing against mine gauging my reaction.

1.


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